


Little Light

by starkjam



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Abandonment, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Anger Management, Child Abuse, Coping Mechanisms, Deaf Character, Foster Care, Hand wavy foster care, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Kid Avengers, Kid Fic, M/M, Separation Anxiety, the tags make it sound sad but it's mostly sweet i promise
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-13
Updated: 2019-04-13
Packaged: 2019-05-25 09:08:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14973848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starkjam/pseuds/starkjam
Summary: It's been nearly one year since Steve and Bucky last had a child placed in their care... Until Phil Coulson calls.





	Little Light

**Author's Note:**

> edited: 13/04/2019
> 
> Hello! Thanks so much for checking out my story!
> 
> As of 13 April 2019, the first chapter of this story has been changed and updated, as well as the tags and characters. If you've read this story previously, I strongly recommend rereading through everything as some things have been taken out or added. When I originally posted this work (June 2018) I didn't have a very well thought out story line and this was basically an unfinished oneshot. I'd really like to dedicate the time and effort this story deserves, so that's why I've gone back through and changed a lot of things. 
> 
> Still, this is my first actual fanfiction, so please bare with me. I've proofread, but I apologize for any grammar/spelling mistakes that may have gone unnoticed. 
> 
> I really appreciate everyone who has stuck with me and this little story for so long. 
> 
> Title of the story comes from the song Little Light by Lewis Watson. It doesn't really relate to the plot, but I recommend giving it a listen anyway. 
> 
> Warnings: this fic will contain child abuse, child neglect, trauma, anxiety, anger issues, and their effect on children. Please take care of yourself and be cautious if these sort of things negatively affect you and you choose to proceed. 
> 
> If I've missed a warning or you'd like for something specific to be placed in the tags, please don't hesitate to comment!

Steve glanced in the mirror, running his hands through his hair in an attempt to make himself look more presentable. Or rather, look as presentable as someone could look at 2:14am. The cowlick on the front of his hairline was standing at attention and refused to lay flat, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

 

Steve sighed and dropped onto the living room couch.

 

He wasn’t new to the foster care system. He’d received numerous calls from social workers requesting to place a child in his and Bucky’s care over the past five years, but it had been nearly a year since the last child was situated with them. Since then, Steve and his husband had decided their family of six was complete. It was time for their journey as foster parents to come to an end.

 

That was until Phil Coulson, their good friend and previous case manager, called Steve up on a Thursday morning at 2am. Bucky didn’t do much more than grunt as the torturous sound of Marimba sounded from Steve’s nightstand.

 

 _It’s an emergency_ , Phil said. A businessman was murdered at an exposition and his four year old son needed to be placed with a family while they contacted relatives. Of course, that was enough for Steve, and in his half-awake stupor, he didn’t ask any questions. Now, he wished he had.

 

Was he hurt? Did he see anything? Was he in danger? How long would he be staying? Would he arrive with any belongings? Where was his mother?

 

Steve’s thoughts were interrupted by the ringing of the doorbell. Attempting to crack his knuckles one last time, he opened the front door. Phil stood on the front porch, holding hands with a small child cocooned in a thick blanket who was trying to hide behind his leg. The chilly April nighttime air swept inside, giving Steve goosebumps under his hoodie and thick pajama pants.

 

“Come in,” He ushered, moving out of the way for Phil to lead the boy inside.

 

“Thank you so much, Steve.” Phil said. “I know you and James said you were finished with fostering, but I saw his case and you two were my gut instinct…” Steve nodded. “This is Anthony, but he goes by Tony. From what we’ve gathered, he’s four years old, and his mother and both maternal _and_ paternal grandparents are deceased. The police are still working on contacting other family members, but he should only be here a few days, two weeks tops.”  

 

“Well, he’s safe and welcome here.” Steve decided as he flashed Tony a smile.

 

“He wasn’t at the scene, but he was at the exposition, so we had him checked out at the hospital just to be safe. As expected, he’s perfectly okay, but the doctor mentioned a mild peanut allergy.” Phil used his leverage on the boy’s hand to gently nudge him forward a few steps forward.

 

“I’ll contact you as soon as any other information pops up.” Phil handed Steve a thick manilla envelope filled with Tony’s information. “Thanks again, Steve.” He added before opening the front door and quickly slipping out of the house. Tony stared after him, not moving or making a sound. Steve took a deep breath and kneeled to the child’s eye level.  

 

“Hi, Tony. My name is Steve and this is my home.” He motioned around with his hands. “You’re going to be staying here for a little bit, okay?”

 

Tony glanced around the room before giving a small nod.

 

“Would you like for me to show you around?” Another nod. “Okay.” Steve stood and gently stuck his hand out, allowing for Tony to decide if he wanted to hold hands with Steve or continue holding his blanket. Surprisingly, Tony seemed to have no qualms over dropping the blanket to the living room floor and grabbing Steve’s hand.

 

Without the blanket covering Tony up, Steve was able to take note of how the young boy was dressed: dark trousers with a rumpled light blue dress shirt. Mentally, Steve wondered just how long Tony had been sitting with the police if he was still dressed in his day clothes at 2:30am.

 

“This is the living room. In here, you can sit on the couch and watch television. Or, you can look at books or play with some toys on the rug if you want.” Steve showed Tony the bookshelf overflowing with picture books and wooden puzzles before leading him into the next room.

 

“This is the kitchen and dining room. In here, we make breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and we eat over at this table. Whenever you’re hungry, you can come ask me, or anyone else in the house, for help getting a snack. Even if it’s just a juice pouch or some graham crackers, you can always ask for something to eat or drink. Okay?” Steve made eye contact with Tony, trying to keep a friendly smile on his face through his exhaustion.

 

Tony nodded as he glanced around the room.

 

“Would you like to look through the cabinets and pick out a snack to eat right now?” Steve asked. Tony reluctantly nodded and dropped his hand from Steve’s grasp. The next ten minutes were spent watching Tony open and close the cupboards before finally deciding on a pack of fruit gummies.

 

“I seen these at the store one time… When I was shoppin’ with Ja’vis.” The four year old explained, his voice a bit scratchy. Hearing Tony’s voice for the first time, Steve smiled.

 

“Yeah? Do you like them?”

 

“I never tried them before.” Tony answered as he handed Steve the box of fruit snacks. Steve helped Tony into a chair at the table before opening a pack of gummies and sitting them down in front of him. Tony picked one up, ready to eat it before his eyebrows furrowed.

 

“They got nuts?” He asked as he extended his hand away from his mouth.

 

“No, they don’t. Actually, none of the food in this house has any peanuts in it. My husband, Bucky, is allergic to peanuts, too.” Steve picked up the box and flipped it over, quickly finding the small symbol with a peanut crossed out. “See this little picture right here? It means that these snacks contain no peanuts and are safe for you to eat.”

 

The four year old nodded and stuffed the fruit snack into his mouth, letting out a small ‘mmm’ as he chewed.

 

As soon as Tony swallowed the last gummy, his small face erupted in a yawn, showing just how tired he must really be. “Would you like me to carry you?” Steve asked as he stood from the chair in an attempt to speed up the tour. Tony nodded and lifted his arms, allowing Steve to scoop him up and move on to the next room.

 

“Back around this corner is the laundry room and the back door. Here is where I wash everyone’s clothes and keep them smelling nice and clean! In the backyard, we have some swings, slides, and a sandbox that you can play with.”

 

Tony let out another yawn as they moved on to the next room.

 

“This is the downstairs bathroom. You can use it if you need to go while you’re eating or playing.” Steve opened and flipped the light on. The room was a basic half-bathroom with a toilet, sink, and small stool that Bruce uses to reach the faucet. “If you ever need help going potty, you can ask me or Bucky for help.”

 

Tony’s little eyebrows furrowed and he looked around, silently wondering who the mysterious ‘Bucky’ is.

 

“Bucky?”

 

“Yes, Bucky is going to take care of you, just like I am. He’s asleep right now, though, because he has to wake up _really_ early in the morning.” This explanation seemed to be good enough for Tony as he merely nodded and turned his attention elsewhere.

 

Steve cut the bathroom light off and shut the door before carrying Tony up the carpeted stairs. They met a hallway and Steve turned on the lightswitch, displaying various white doors lining the walls. The only differentiating quality between them being the chalkboard signs with different names on each of the doors.

 

“This is Clint and Bruce’s bedroom,” Steve pointed out as they passed the doors. “Clint is eight years old and Bruce is six. Next door is Natasha’s bedroom. She’s nine.” The next door, Steve opened. “This is another bathroom!” He explained as he flipped the lightswitch on.

 

Steve carried him inside and settled him on the counter, keeping a hand on his small leg to make sure he wouldn’t fall.

 

“Would you like to pick out a toothbrush?” Steve asked as he pulled open the drawer, revealing a few packs of unopened children’s toothbrushes. Tony nodded and picked through them before lifting a Paw Patrol themed brush with a smile.

 

“That’s a great choice!” Steve exclaimed. He carefully removed the toothbrush from the package and ran it under the faucet before applying a bit of berry flavored fluoride-free toothpaste. “Do you need any help?” He asked as he handed Tony the toothbrush. The child shook his head before dutily sticking the brush in his mouth and cleaning his teeth.

 

Steve watched as Tony brushed almost every single one of his teeth, only missing a few, and spit the paste in the sink.

 

“Good job, Tony!” He praised. Usually, Steve made sure to do a final brush to make sure all of the younger kids’ teeth were clean, but decided that could until the next morning. “Come on, let’s go find your bedroom.” Steve helped Tony down from the counter and held his hand out, allowing Tony to decide if he wanted to take his hand again. Without hesitation, Tony latched on and followed Steve out into the hallway, facing the opposite wall.

 

“This is Thor’s bedroom. He just turned sixteen! Here is my office, where I do work, and next door is mine and Bucky’s bedroom.” He paused by the open door as Tony lifted his head to peer inside.

 

“He sleepin’?” The young boy asked, looking up at Steve.

 

“Yup! He has to wake up early in the morning for work, so you’ll get to meet him during breakfast. And right here is your room!” They stopped at the next room over.

 

Luckily, there was still a chalkboard with a pack of colored chalk hanging on the door. The room used to belong to Bruce before he began sharing with Clint, but lately it was being used to store old clothes and toys the children had outgrown. Hopefully, some of the pajamas would fit Tony.

 

“Would you like to decorate your chalkboard?” Steve asked as he opened the pack of colored chalk. Tony quickly nodded, an excited smile spreading on his face as he picked out a red piece.

 

Steve expected Tony to draw a picture or maybe some scribbles, much like most of the younger children usually did when they first arrived at the house. Instead, Tony clutched the chalk tightly and wrote out his name; first, middle, and last.

 

“Wow! That looks great, buddy!” Steve praised as Tony’s mouth split into a wide smile. The ‘y’ in Anthony was backwards, but every other letter was written so precisely. Tony must’ve spent a lot of time practicing writing his name.

 

“A-N-T-H-O-N-Y E-D-W-A-R-D S-T-A-R-K.”  

 

“That’s right!" Steve cheered. "Okay, time to get ready for bedtime.” He opened the bedroom door and turned on the light, directing Tony inside.

 

The room was still covered with a few posters and wall decals from when Bruce slept there, mostly superheroes and cartoons, but Steve wished it could be more personal to Tony. With their past foster children, Steve and Bucky were told about their arrival days before it actually happened, so they had time to decorate according to how old the child was and their interests. This was the first time a child had been brought over with less than an hours notice.  

 

“Would you like to pick which pajamas you want to sleep in?” Steve asked as he pulled out a plastic tub filled with Clint and Bruce’s outgrown clothes.

 

Clint had been four when he moved into the house, and Bruce was so small he fit into size 4T clothing, so there was more than enough spare pajamas. There were boats, cowboys, robots, UFOs, sharks, and even Ninja Turtles. Tony decided on the robot printed pajamas and allowed Steve to help him get dressed.

 

“Do you remember where the bathroom is?” Steve asked as he pulled back the blankets on Tony’s bed. “It’s directly across the hall with the door open. If you need to go during the night or when you wake up in the morning, you can go straight over.” Tony nodded as he climbed into the bed, seemingly swamped by the thick comforter and large pillow.  

 

Steve made sure to tuck Tony in nice and tight, hopefully succeeding in making the young boy feel safe in a new home.

 

“Okay. It’s time to go to sleep, alright? You don’t need to worry about anything other than resting your eyes and having wonderful dreams.” Steve could see the anxiety on Tony’s little face. “If you get cold at night, there are extra blankets at the end of the bed. Or if you wake up and you’re scared, you can come next door and get me or Bucky.”

 

“Okay.” Tony’s eyelids drooped.

 

“Do you have any questions?” Tony shook his head. “Want me to leave the light on?” Another shake. “What about the door open?” This time, a nod. And a sigh. “Alright. Goodnight, Tony. I’ll see you in the morning.”

 

“G’night, ‘teve.”

 

Steve smiled and brushed the small curls from Tony’s forehead before standing from the bed. As requested, he turned the ceiling light off, leaving the room softly illuminated by a small night-light near the corner of the room, and left the bedroom door open.

 

According to the wall clock, it was nearly 3:30am by the time Steve finally crawled back into his own bed. Bucky groaned and rolled over, one eye remaining closed as he took in Steve’s expression.

 

“How’s he doing?” Bucky whispered as he shuffled closer to his husband.

 

“Honestly, shockingly well.”

 

“That’s good, then, yeah?” Bucky smiled. “Maybe this will go smoother than usual.”

 

Steve shook his head and sighed.

 

“I don’t know, Buck. He almost seems… unaffected? I’m worried.”

 

“Worrying won’t do any good right now. Try to relax and sleep, babe.”

 

Within minutes, Bucky was back to softly snoring, seemingly dead to the world. Steve, on the other hand, couldn’t fall asleep. His body felt numb from exhaustion but his mind was running a mile a minute. Because he knew that if the shoe didn’t drop tonight, he was sure it would in the morning.

**Author's Note:**

> Just to be clear, a bit of the foster care information included in the story may or may not be entirely accurate. Although I'd like to become a foster parent one day, I've never experienced the system first hand. Since this is a fanfiction, I tried to keep some realistic points while also keeping that fluffy, mushy aspect we all love. I hope you enjoyed!


End file.
